


Inspiration for 'Kintsugi'

by melancholy_aries



Series: Kintsugi-verse [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, F/M, Hair-pulling, Possessive Grimmjow, Spanking, Strip Tease, Vaginal Sex, laughing, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholy_aries/pseuds/melancholy_aries
Summary: This is the original scene I wrote just as a little something for myself, and it was meant to stay at this. Instead, it has inspired pages and pages of my story, 'Kintsugi.'
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Kintsugi-verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035204
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Inspiration for 'Kintsugi'

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad that it's going to take me a bit longer to get the next chapter of Kintsugi up, so I thought I'd placate y'all with the work that spawned Kintsugi. You'll recognize a lot of it, and a lot of what you don't recognize will be used in upcoming chapters, but it'll be obvious where Kintsugi doesn't follow the direction of this "drabble." It is a rough draft, mind you, so please don't judge too harshly :)

Grimmjow pushed Asami flat against the wall, hand on the back of her neck to prevent her from moving in any way that displeased him.

She gave instantly, putty in his hands.

He bit his lip and took a moment to admire her backside in the form-fitting dress that was exactly the color of his own hair. He had barely made it out of the house with her looking like this, and when she finally caught on to just how much he was struggling to keep his hands off her at Urahara’s stupid party, Asami had gleefully tested his self-restraint.

Grimmjow pressed his body flush against her from behind, shivering when she moaned beneath him and pressed her hips backward into his.

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I don’t like to share, sunshine,” he growled in her ear. “I would’a made you get down on your knees in front of fuckin’ everyone for being such a filthy tease.”

Her breath hitched and her eyes searched desperately for him as best she could with her head still pinned.

“Oh?” He laughed darkly. “Maybe that’s what you wanted. Hm? Did you want to suck my cock in front of those stupid Shinigami?” He said right against her ear. “Show them that some superpowers are more impressive than being a dumbass soul-reaper?”

Asami’s eyes softened and a small smile formed on her lips. “You think my blowjobs are a superpower?”

“Duh. Why else would I let you train so often?” He smiled against her neck. “Ya never know when there’ll be an emergency and your skills will be needed.”

Asami laughed, a full-bodied sound that made Grimmjow’s heart flutter, and she took a playful nip at Grimmjow’s thumb just next to her mouth. “What kind of emergency would require _that_ skill?”

“This kind.” He ground his erection against her ass. She made the sexiest noise and her fingers scrabbled against the wall like she was trying to peel the paint off. “You created this emergency. You fuckin’ know you did.”

“Yeah,” she admitted breathlessly and before she could stop herself.

“Oh, Asami.” He purred. “You’re gonna need _days_ to recover from all the emergency services you’re gonna provide for me.”

She laughed again, thready and shaking. “Emergency services, huh? Sounds like something I should add to my resumé.”

“Don’t you dare,” Grimmjow snarled, nipping a little harsher than he should have at the soft skin behind her ear. “I don’t share, remember?”

“Mm!” She whined, her body going stiff with obedience. “Yes, Sir.”

Oh, fuck, yes—one of his favorite of her responses. A “Sir” from Asami always meant that she wanted to give up control—to give _him_ control—and there was something about that kind of trust that made Grimmjow feel _really_ good and made him want to earn even more of it.

Grimmjow hated to admit it, but he owed Ichigo bigtime for introducing him to Asami... Of course, the introduction was unavoidable and Ichigo had not been happy about it, so maybe Grimmjow didn’t owe him after all. Still, it seemed ungrateful not to show _someone_ some sort of appreciation for giving him this opportunity with her.

“You’re mine, Asami.” Grimmjow trailed his fingers down her arm, grinning at the goosebumps that sprang to life. He would show _her_ his appreciation, he’d decided. “My prey. My property.” Grimmjow slipped his arm around her hips, pinning her as he swirled his hips against her ass. “My _whore._ ”

Her knees gave out as she moaned loudly but Grimmjow’s hold on her was firm. He slid one of his legs between hers to prop her up then teasingly trailed his fingers across her soft abdomen, biting back a giddy laugh that would have ruined the mood he’d set as her muscles jumped and twitched beneath his touch. He fuckin’ loved her body, every little thing it did. Her body drove him to the brink of his sanity, her mind and spirit pushed him over, and after the way she had tortured him tonight, he was determined to make her feel the same way about him.

“You thought you could goad me into giving you what you want, didn’t you? Thought you could play innocent as you shook this ass—“ he gave it a hard squeeze until she gasped, “—and flirted with every dick in the place.”

“I did _not_!”

Grimmjow carefully slammed his body against hers, knocking some air from her lungs. He remained pressed against her, making it impossible for her to get it back.

“Don’t lie to me.”

She whimpered, partly with lust, partly with indignation, and the sound went straight to Grimmjow’s cock. He knew she hadn’t been _flirting_ flirting, but watching her talk and laugh with everyone but him, watching at least half of the other men in attendance eye-fuck her all night, had Grimmjow’s blood boiling. And since he couldn’t put his fist through Kuchiki Byakuya’s face, he was going to take his frustrations out on Asami.

“Only...I’m...”

“Only what?” He sneered. “It was only flirting?”

“Not...urgh!” She growled and Grimmjow allowed himself to smile at the adorable sound only because she couldn’t see him. He thought it said a lot about her that she didn’t even push against him, didn’t ask him to back up, to give her lungs room to inflate so she could breathe and maybe put together a functional sentence. Mostly he thought it said that she was his—to do with as he pleased, yes, and to please and care for, first and foremost, because she trusted him to do so—and that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Not what? Not mine?” He asked dangerously then carefully, but forcefully, yanked her head back by her hair.

“Uuurgh!” She slammed her fists against the wall. “Not flirting! Only yours!”

Then, as if to prove her point, she exhaled every last bit of air, allowing Grimmjow’s weight to pin her more fully, and then maneuvered her arms behind herself so that she could grab his ass and pull him even closer.

Grimmjow was about half a second away from tearing her dress off and taking her right there in the hallway when he remembered one of the most important lessons Asami had ever taught him.

***

 _Grimmjow had only known Asami for less than an hour, but he knew enough to know that she was different than any human he’d ever met, and not just because she hadn’t assumed that he was stomping into the clinic because of the giant hole in his gut. He also knew enough to know that_ he _was behaving differently around her, and if he hadn’t realized it on his own, the strange looks from Ichigo and his friends would have clued him in._

_They were all gathered at the Kurosaki place to watch their friend, Chad, in his premier fight as a professional. Apparently, Asami had worked as a massage therapist for the gym where Chad trained, and he had sent her to old man Kurosaki when she expressed a desire to help people who hadn’t purposefully gotten themselves hurt. Grimmjow had walked in on part of her interview to work at the clinic._

_Just as Grimmjow was trying to figure out how to maximize his time with Asami and minimize his interactions with the others, Asami found him at the kitchen table as he piled his plate with potato chips and asked,_

_“Would you like me to help with your shoulder?”_

_Instinctively, his eyes narrowed at her. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”_

_She grinned at him, totally throwing him off. “No? So you_ can _move your shoulder higher than this?” She demonstrated with her own shoulder. “And it_ doesn’t _hurt to move it like this?”_

_“I ain’t hurt.” He nearly growled, his eyes darting to Ichigo to see if he was listening in on the conversation. It was never a good thing for an opponent to know one’s weakness. Shouldn’t this woman—Asami—fuckin’ know that if she worked with fighters?_

_“Okay.” She shrugged. “But, you know, if you ever do get hurt, and you’re comfortable with me putting my hands all over you,” she winked at him and his heart rate soared, “I can help your body heal itself. Hell, I could even minimize that gnarly scar you got on your chest. Bet it makes it kinda hard to breath sometimes, huh?”_

_“How do you know this shit?” He asked, frustrated but also damn impressed and a little in awe._

_“Magic.” She grinned at him again and Grimmjow nearly fuckin’ swooned. “So. May I work on your shoulder during the fight?”_

_“Hn.” Grimmjow grunted and shrugged his shoulder, irritated at the pain in it, but also excited at the prospect of Asami touching him for any reason. “Yeah, s’good with me.”_

_“Okay, shush, it’s starting!” Tatsuki said, eyes totally zoned in on the screen, where Chad was standing as stoic as ever while his opponent jumped and flailed and ripped a banner apart with his hands._

_Asami sat in one of the empty chairs and signaled Grimmjow to take a seat on the floor in front of her. As she began warming up the tissues in and around his shoulder, she said, “Your friend is going to win.”_

_“Ain’t my friend.” Grimmjow had replied automatically, cringing at himself. “I, uh, I mean...why do you think so?”_

_“He has more self-control than any fighter I’ve ever met, in and out of the ring. His opponent doesn’t have any control at all. The person with the most self-control always wins.”_

_Chad won in the first round._

***

Grimmjow chuckled darkly and took a small step away from Asami, outright laughing when she made a sound of utter astonishment that he hadn’t given in to her. So, it wasn’t that she wanted to give up control, it was that she wanted Grimmjow to lose control and just ravage her. Despite popular belief, Grimmjow hated losing control. It was one of the reasons that Kurosaki grated his nerves so bad, because Grimmjow lost control around him more than anyone else. Control was power, and Grimmjow had not spent all those years eating his way to sentience just so that he could lose control like a fresh hollow whenever he didn’t get his way.

“You thought you were in control, didn’t you?” He taunted. “Thought you had me wrapped around your fuckin’ finger, ready to fuck you into the wall.” She whimpered again and Grimmjow nipped her neck. “I’m going to take my time with you tonight. Play with you,” he purred into her ear, “until you’re begging, crying for me to show mercy...to dick you down...to let you cum. And then I’m going to stop.”

“Asshole.” She barely managed to mutter.

“I’m not taking requests.” He slowly ground his knee between her legs.

Asami cried out instantly, tried to move her hips faster over his knee, but she had no leverage and could do nothing but take his slow attentions.

“Mmm, so desperate already, sunshine. So _out of control_. You’d ride my thigh ‘til you cum, wouldn’t you?”

“Grimmjow, _please_!”

“I’m gonna let you do that—ride my thigh, not cum.”

“Grimmjow!” She moaned and her whole body shuddered.

“Breathe, sunshine.” He scraped his teeth against her jugular, using his tongue to test the pulse there. “Slower.”

She whined in the back of her throat, a protest at how he was using so many of the things she had taught him against her, but then did as commanded, breathing in slowly for a count of five, then exhaling just as slowly.

“Keep breathing just like that. Got it?”

“Mm-hmm!” She hummed and nodded her head.

Grimmjow lifted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, brazenly sliding one hand up her dress and palming her ass as he moved her toward the bedroom. For a moment, he thought she wasn’t wearing any underwear, but a quick check of the surrounding area told him she was wearing his favorite style—an exaggerated bikini-cut that framed her thick ass perfectly.

As if that weren’t knee-buckling enough, he could fuckin’ _smell_ her and his senses were starting to cloud over and he could feel his hard-earned control slipping from his fingers.

He picked up his pace to their room, desperate to give himself some space to clear his head. He set her on her feet near their dresser and then escaped to the edge of their bed across the room. She smirked at him, clearly knowing what was going on, but her triumph was brief.

“Strip.” He commanded, adding a little bit of hollow to his voice because they both loved the way it made her shiver. “Slowly.”

She took a deep, shaky breath and began to sway a little as she reached behind her back to unzip the dress. She had needed his help to zip it up earlier this evening, but she didn’t ask for help this time. He watched as the fabric slowly began to loosen, beginning near her shoulders and chest, then down around her tummy and hips.

His eyes snapped upward when he heard her moan. Her hands were on her breasts, then moving up her neck and into her hair. She kept them there a while, playing with her hair, giving herself a scalp massage, before bringing her hands back down, and pulling the straps of her dress with them. She gasped softly when Grimmjow began to purr, sounding like a damn motor, when her breasts were finally revealed.

They weren’t the biggest breasts he’d ever seen—nothing like Nel’s or Orihime’s or Hollybell’s. They weren’t the perkiest set he’d ever seen, either. But they were _Asami’s_ and he fuckin’ loved them. Hell, he had a relationship with them separate from his relationship with Asami, named them and everything. He had a separate relationship with her pussy, too, and she had a separate relationship with his cock. And fuck, but he could hardly wait for them to get together tonight.

“I love the way you look at me.” She whispered, so quiet that Grimmjow barely heard it, and he couldn’t help but remember their first time together.

***

For all her confidence, Grimmjow had never expected her to be shy about her body when they first started sleeping together. But she had surprised him, as she was prone to doing, by trying to keep her dress on. It had taken nearly thirty minutes, a fight, and a teary breakdown for her to cough up the truth, which was that she was self-conscious about the fat on her body, especially in comparison to Grimmjow’s. Something stupid about how she was worried he wouldn’t like her anymore if he saw her stretch-marks, too, whatever the fuck those were. He had refused to let her tell him.

He had just stared at her like she might actually be the dumbest person he’d ever met. If he didn’t like her body, he wouldn’t be trying to fuck it. He had tried to use better words than that, he really had, but he had failed. And thank the gods, too, because she had laughed so hard that she collapsed against him. From there, he had touched and teased and caressed her until she was shaking, then told her she could have his fingers, but if she wanted his tongue or his cock, the dress—and everything else—had to come off.

“I fuckin’ love the way you look.” He growled, even more Hollow leaking into his voice. “Now take that fucking dress off and get over here.”

He nearly came in his pants just watching her thighs rub together as she sauntered toward him. He had lost track of how many times he had stood them in front of their mirror and fucked those thighs, how many times he had felt their unique blend of firm squishiness envelope him and take him to ecstasy.

She was now in nothing but her panties, which were exactly the color of his own eyes.

Grimmjow realized that she must have custom-ordered them, as well as her dress. Humans were so fuckin’ weird, but he couldn’t stop the swell of pride in his chest that she wanted reminders of him on her body. _Especially_ that one of the reminders was in the form of panties.

He stood and forced himself to go slowly, to tease, as he stripped to match her. He never took his eyes from hers, though hers roamed his body more and more shamelessly as he revealed more skin. He loved when she couldn’t keep her eyes off him, when just looking at his body excited her to the point that she could no longer control her breathing without concentrated effort. He loved the way she looked at him, too.

As he slid off his boxer-briefs, Asami began to slide off her panties, but Grimmjow didn’t want that. Not yet.

“Stop. Keep them on,” he rumbled.

Asami gave him a wide, yet somehow shy, smile and nodded. She looked up into his eyes, perfectly relaxed. Waiting for instruction.

“Oh, I think you know what to do, Captain Cocksucker.”

Asami laughed, hard, and pressed her forehead to Grimmjow’s chest until the fit had passed. When she looked up at him, her eyes were shining with mirth and unshed tears.

“Captain Cocksucker?” She giggled.

“It’s called alliteration.” Grimmjow feigned haughtiness even as he smiled. He ran his thumb along her lips, pulling the lower one down a little just to let go and watch it bounce back into place. He licked his lips unconsciously then growled, “Now get to it.”

Asami sank seductively to her knees, dragging her hands down Grimmjow’s torso as she went, occasionally scraping him with her very short fingernails. She began with his balls, kissing and sucking and laving, moving them around with her tongue.

As a cannibalistic creature, Grimmjow had never allowed another hollow of any level to take any part of him into their mouths, and vice versa. The fear of having his favorite and most intimate body part torn off and _consumed_ was much stronger than any lust he’d ever felt. So, the first time that Asami ventured toward Pantera Dos with her mouth, there had been a bit of a dustup that had taken a lot of effort for them to navigate.

Well, for _him_ to navigate. Honestly, when Grimmjow looked back on their time together, he wasn’t sure why Asami had put so much effort into him. He had been rude, surly, moody, and arrogant. Not that Asami hadn’t had her judgmental and snippy moments, but overall, Grimmjow knew who’d had the more difficult partner. Seriously, the fact that she had solved their dustup by stripping and telling him he was only allowed to touch her with his mouth, and if he ended up losing control and cannibalizing her then at least she’d die doing something she loved, was all he needed in order to know that he had found the woman for him.

And ever since then, he hadn’t ceased trying to prove that he was the man for her. She’d never given him any reason to believe she was still shopping around, but he intended never to give her a reason to start. And one of the ways he’d learned to make her happy (and so turned on that her thighs would get soaked all the way down to her knees) was to give her honest reactions to what she did to him.

It had taken Grimmjow a while to get used to this, as noisy sex between Arrancar could trigger some very unfavorable responses in any other Arrancar nearby. Urahara had told them, after the Winter War, that it was due to a malfunction in Aizen’s “programming” for them, a malfunction which happened because Aizen had never been laid in his whole life. _“There’s no other explanation for someone to be so power-hungry_ ,” Urahara had said.

“Damn, woman.” Grimmjow moaned when she captured one of his balls between her lips and pulled lightly. And then she looked up at him mischievously and hummed for at least ten seconds, scrambling his brains a bit. “F-f-fuuuuuck.”

She released him with a _pop_ and slid her tongue along the underside of his cock, slow and wet and so fuckin’ sexy.

Grimmjow wasn’t opposed to fast and sloppy blowjobs by any means, but there was something about how Asami liked to take her time that made him feel particularly accepted, desired, and—he mentally cringed at himself—special. Sometimes, she would spend over an hour with his cock, kissing, stroking, _talking,_ and he even sometimes preferred the more...platonic forms of interaction. Not for long, but sometimes.

Asami was careful with her teeth as she slid her mouth down Grimmjow’s cock. Her nose pressed up against his belly and began making figure-eights on his skin as her throat fluttered around him. Grimmjow clasped onto her shoulders as he shook, overwhelmed by the tightness of her throat, the heat of her mouth, the wetness of her tongue—

Gods, he wasn’t going to last long at all if he kept on like this.

“Bed,” he gasped just as she hollowed her cheeks and slowly began to pull off. At his command, she met his eyes with disappointment and made a pathetic whimper that forced him to pull out of her mouth _now_.

Her devilish little grin made him growl and toss her unceremoniously onto the bed.

He watched with a lusty gaze as she bounced then he was on top of her in the blink of an eye, kissing her cross-eyed as he rolled his hips between her legs.

“Breathe.” He taunted as she panted away beneath him like she’d just run a marathon.

“Fuck you.” She shot back lazily, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing anyway.

“I just might have to,” he said with mock disappointment before pinning her arms down and threatening her. “’Cause only good girls get to fuck me and I don’t see any good girls around. Do you?”

Grimmjow watched her weigh the options. They both knew that no matter which way she chose to play it, Grimmjow was going to take her tonight (over and over again) so it was really a matter of how much further she wanted to push them both, how much longer she wanted to wait, how competitive she was feeling. Because while Grimmjow had all the physical endurance in the world, and a surprising amount of patience when sex was involved, Asami had all sorts of Taoist and tantric tricks up her sleeves to help her withstand Grimmjow’s attempts to submit her, as well as to turn the tables on him.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She said demurely, keeping her eyes down until flicking them up to meet his, a little fire shining in them. “I should never have suggested that you do my job for me.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He grinned ferally down at her, wrapping one large hand around her jaw and tilting her head back so that he could lick her neck in a slow, indulgent climb. “And _why_ is it your job to fuck me?”

“Because...because, Sir—I’m your whore.” She smiled as she whispered in his ear and rolled her hips up into his.

“Good girl.” He purred as he shifted from between her legs and over to her side. She shivered against him, her breath shaky but slowing down. His hand slid gently down her soft, voluptuous body, only to slip passed her panties and roughly palm between her legs.

“Oo-oh, Grimm!”

“I love how fuckin’ wet you get.” He growled darkly against her ear, sliding two fingers into her pussy. He threaded his other hand through her hair, cradling her head as her body tensed and bowed off the mattress. He barely managed to hold back the needy whimper in his throat, managed to only hump her hip like a damn dog for a few seconds rather than to completion.

He flipped their positions, settling her on top of his left thigh.

“Ride it.” He commanded.

She obeyed, which was fucking sexy all on its own, but watching her undulate above him, watching her play with her tits as she watched him watching her, was heart-stopping-ly erotic.

She was making desperate little sounds now, grinding harder, faster, her arousal covering her thighs and his. And then she said his name, a wretched supplication for mercy, and he realized that she was waiting for his fucking permission. Because he’d told her, what felt like ages ago, that she couldn’t cum.

Fuck it, he couldn’t wait any longer.

He flipped their positions again, letting his reiatsu loose on her body, using it to pin her down as he threw her legs over his shoulders and buried his face between them. He didn’t bother moving her panties—he _wanted_ them exactly where they were, wanted them there to catch her cum as he ate her out.

She screamed and cursed and writhed as he went straight for the kill, making her peak in less than fifteen seconds. While she was still twitching with aftershocks, he pressed two fingers into her opening, panties and all.

“Fuck, Grimmjow!” She moaned and tried to turn onto her side, tried to curl her legs up, but his spiritual pressure wouldn’t allow her.

He growled and flipped her onto her belly, pulling her hips back so her ass was in the air. He bit her hard enough to leave a bruise, moaned when she whimpered beneath him. Then he spread her legs and slowly peeled the underwear from her body. He watched gluttonously as thick strands of her arousal stretched between her labia and her panties, wishing he could bottle it up for later, for every time he needed a pick-me-up.

He briefly wondered if that would be considered cheating, like the drugs he’d heard about humans using to get an unfair advantage...Nah. Wasn’t his fault if his opponents didn’t have a partner to energize them.

When he finished getting her panties passed her feet, he buried his face in them. He was _so_ going to have her jerk him off with these later. But right now, he was going to look at her. He was going to _see_ her—her pretty pussy with all its dark, wet curls; her cute little asshole; her thick, perfectly-palm-able ass—and she was going to fucking know it. He was going to leave no doubt in her mind that he wanted her, that he loved the way she looked and felt and sounded and _smelled_. The way she fuckin’ _tasted_. That he loved everything about her.

Grimmjow was jerked out of his musings by a particularly intense cry from his lover. He realized that he’d not only been speaking out loud, but that his reiatsu had increased, and he had both of his thumbs in her cunt, holding her open so he could look.

Asami was shaking and panting, the kind that told him that she was okay but that he couldn’t push her any further...right now.

Grimmjow immediately shut off his reiatsu and covered her body with his, sliding her forward so she was flat on her belly except for his arms wrapped around her. He held her close but loosely, present but not imposing. He nuzzled her hair, her neck, her ear. He licked the tears from her cheek while she did some sort of special breathing.

“Hey.” He said softly against her skin. “All right?”

“Hell yeah.” She laughed breathily.

Grimmjow grinned and nipped her jaw. “You have _no idea_ what an ego-trip it is to make you cum like that without even fucking you.”

“You have no idea what a trip it is to be _talked_ to a cervical orgasm.”

“Dirty-talked.” He laughed and licked her ear.

“Dirty-talked.” She agreed. “Well, and your reiatsu.”

“You do like being held down and helpless.” He purred softly, beginning to rub his erection against her ass.

“Well, yes, but—ooh!” she moaned and pushed her ass back to meet him. “But, your reiatsu—hah!—it doesn’t just...doesn’t just hold me down.”

“Hmm?” He managed to hum, his head hazy with the lust of his postponed orgasm.

Gods, she felt so fucking good. She was so fucking wet that his cock just slipped between the globes of her ass, back and forth like it was always meant to be there.

“Asami.” He moaned, face buried in her neck.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, Grimmjow, just do it already!”

Within a breath, he had one hand wrapped around her throat, the other wrapped around her hips to tilt them at just the right angle, and then he was inside her. He growled, a distinctly Hollow sound, as her pussy gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition.

Though he was half-mad with lust, his steady breathing kept him fully conscious of every sound Asami made; of the feel of her sweaty skin against his; of just how fucking articulate her pussy was, squeezing just his base, or just his head, or just the right side or the left. He laid kisses across her salty shoulders to thank her for going the extra mile to make him cum even though she was already letting him fuck her into the mattress.

Before Asami, Grimmjow’s sexual experiences had been few and far between. And until he met Asami, those experiences—both quality and frequency—had been more than enough for Grimmjow. But since Asami, Grimmjow had come to realize that those experiences had been lacking. Not because his partners had been bad, though he was sure that no one would ever compare to Asami, but because _he_ , Grimmjow, had been lacking consciousness.

His sexual experiences had been wild and hot, sure, but they had also been distinctly utilitarian—meant solely to sate an urge that he couldn’t sate himself. He barely remembered the experiences afterward. Even during, he was so caught up in the all-consuming fire, trying to reach the pinnacle as soon as possible in order to avoid getting burned, that he never noticed things like how good his partners felt, how their muscles moved so sensually against him, how soft their hair was.

He had never slowed down enough to realize that the fire wasn’t trying to harm him, it was trying to warm him. Stoke him and fuel him and his endeavors to heights he’d never even dreamed of. It used to be that Grimmjow abstained from sex with Asami in the twenty-four hours leading up to a spar with Ichigo—“women weaken legs,” he was told the theory was called by humans. Then, a few weeks ago, Asami had convinced him to try some Taoist, tantric hoo-doo for _three hours_ leading up to a spar.

It had still ended in a tie, but Grimmjow had lasted at least an hour longer than he usually did, and had kept Ichigo on the ropes the entire time, forcing him to use everything he had. Literally—once Grimmjow’s regeneration had kicked in, he’d had to carry Ichigo home, where his dad replenished...electro-something or others. Grimmjow had vastly improved each week since then and he knew he had been an insufferably smug bastard about it, too, especially because he refused to tell Ichigo his secret.

“So fuckin’ wet, whore.” Grimmjow rumbled against her ear, reveling in the whimper she made, the same flavor as _please_. “Your naughty little cunt likes me, huh? Likes stretching around my dick, likes it when I _own her_.”

“Oh, gods, Grimm!” Asami cried, arching her back in a way Grimmjow thought should have been impossible given how much of his bodyweight she was supporting.

“I’m gonna open your throat next.” He promised, knowing she was just seconds away from a spectacular orgasm and knowing that she was a whore for words even more than she was a whore for his dick. Even so, he picked up his pace, slamming into her cervix with every thrust. “Gonna fuck you open ‘til you tell me all the filthy things you want me to do to your body.”

“Yes!” She moaned lowly, her eyes closed and obviously picturing the scenario.

“Gonna cum down your slutty throat, fill up your pretty mouth, cover your sexy face with it.”

Oh, gods, Grimmjow could feel it, could feel his orgasm approaching, barreling toward him like tidal wave. He just needed to hold off for a few more seconds...

“Grimm! Grimm, cum inside me! Cum inside me, please, _please_!”

How could Grimmjow deny such polite begging?

He couldn’t. Couldn’t even consider it, couldn’t have prolonged the moment with his trademark teasing even if he’d wanted to.

His orgasm crashed over him, surging through his muscles and bones, infusing them with power and potential. He maintained his breathing throughout, allowing him to feel every twitch of his body, every pulse of Asami’s, letting him truly _experience_ the hot, sticky, vaguely-suffocating event of cumming inside of her.

And then he bit her because he couldn’t have done anything else, and Asami screamed.

Grimmjow's eyes rolled at the way she gripped him so tight that he wouldn’t have been able to pull out without hurting her—and himself. He felt the way she shook and shivered and broke out in goosebumps as her orgasm rolled through her again and again with each little thrust he gave against her cervix, despite how sensitive the head of his cock was.

The whimper of despair that Asami made when Grimmjow finally released her neck and pulled out of her made his cock twitch violently. He collapsed on his back next to her, keeping one of his legs over hers just to maintain connection, but not pulling her in to cuddle because she always overheated for a few minutes after they went at it. She would let him know when it was time to snuggle and while he’d never admit it, even to himself, he always waited impatiently for that time to arrive.

He watched her as she laid there, tears flowing freely and her face streaked with mascara. It had taken Grimmjow a long time not to feel bad about those tears. He had learned that they were a good thing, though, at least for Asami. They meant she’d had some sort of release, that she had worked through or discarded some sort of stressor. She’d told him repeatedly that it was difficult for her to work through some things on her own, and that he was always a great help to her when she wasn’t processing things as well as she wanted.

Yet another reason for Grimmjow to add to his list of why Asami was the woman for him.

He couldn’t wait any longer to touch her, so he shifted to his side and softly ran his fingers over her back, neck, and arms, and the half of her face that was turned towards him. He memorized the streak-pattern on her face, gently licked at the bite mark on her neck—it was going to bruise beautifully.

Grimmjow allowed himself a soft chuckle as Asami’s whole body broke out in more goosebumps and a shiver shot down her spine. She made a contented noise and wriggled her lower body to let him know it was feeling left out.

“Greedy.” He said appreciatively and kissed her cheek before trailing his fingers across her low-back and her ass. “I like it when you tell me what you want.”

“Mmm.” She hummed sleepily. “You make it safe to tell you.”

Grimmjow froze, his hand halfway down one of her calves. “I do?”

“Yeah.” She nodded lazily. “Because you _want_ to give me what I want. You’re not going to get annoyed or frustrated with me, even if you can’t give me what I want. I know you’re not going to leave because I ask for too much.”

Grimmjow was still new to the nuances of human speech, but he was pretty sure that her tone just now meant that she was talking from experience and that made him _furious_.

“Some dick did that to you?” He demanded. “Said that _you_ ask too much? I could barely get you to ask me to hand you something from a high shelf the whole first month we were dating!”

Asami giggled softly and shifted so she could look at him better, her eyes still a little glassy. “If he hadn’t, I never would’ve met you.”

Well, that stopped him short...but, still. “Just ‘cause it turned out for the best doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole.”

“For the best, huh?” She teased.

“Where would you be without me, hm?” He teased back. “Even if you had still ended up in Karakura, you’d be stuck with that scrawny little Quincy hanging around you like an eager puppy. And he sure as fuck don’t know how to handle a woman like you.”

“A woman like me?” She laughed softly. “What kind of woman am I, Grimmjow?”

“My favorite kind,” he growled lustily and smacked her ass. Asami whined into the down comforter and arched her low-back involuntarily, pushing more of her ass into Grimmjow’s hand. He squeezed it and reverently said, “You couldn’t get any more perfect if you fuckin’ tried.” Grimmjow kissed the base of her spine. “Receptive. Responsive.” He licked one side of her ass. “So fuckin’ sexy.”

“And Uryuu couldn’t handle that?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say another dude’s name while you’re naked and stuffed full of my cum.” Grimmjow pouted, surging up to sink his teeth into the other side of her neck just to mark his territory _on purpose_ , this time.

Asami laughed heartily and flopped onto her back. She looked deliberately at Grimmjow as she sensually rubbed her thighs together, causing a soft squelching noise from their combined arousals. “You think the Quincy likes me?”

“I don’t fuckin’ _think_ so,” Grimmjow snarled obliviously as he gazed at her thighs with ravenous hunger. “I know so. And the fuckin’ candy-man and that asshole, Kuchiki. Both Kurosaki bastards, too. They’re all lucky I haven’t ripped their eyes out.”

“Ichigo?” Asami purred against Grimmjow’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Asami.” He glared furiously at her.

“Yeah, but you like _his_ name.” She asserted.

“Not in _your_ mouth.”

“ _In your mouth_ , then?” She asked salaciously, softly pressing her thumb passed his lips.

Grimmjow blushed and looked away.

This wasn’t a new discussion for them and it was going the same as it always did. Asami wanted things to go differently this time and she knew exactly which buttons to push.

“He needs you, Grimm.”

Grimmjow pulled back, stunned.

“Think about it, blue-eyes: Ichigo has been under pressure to literally _save the world_ since he was fifteen, even though there are Captains and Espada stronger, faster, and more experienced than him. And not just save the world, but save _three of them_ and _without advanced warning_. Every day I watch him practically beg people to accept control of their own lives, to take responsibility for the consequences they’ve brought upon themselves, and every day I watch him allow others to relinquish their control to him. He just wants a break, Grimm. Something—or some _one_ —who will carry him for a while, let him recharge.

“He needs someone like you.” She slid her hand down Grimmjow’s arm. “But I doubt he’d trust anyone _other_ than you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Asami grinned lovingly at him. “He already comes to you every week because fighting you means he can let go of all other expectations on him. He’s been using you to try to exhaust himself beyond caring about the burden on his shoulders, when there are much, much better ways that he could be using you.” She grinned at Grimmjow. “What he really needs is to be recharged.”

“And fucking me would do that?” Grimmow asked, mostly apprehensive but there was some curiosity in his voice.

“Maybe. More likely, getting fucked _by_ you.”

Grimmjow’s gut clenched so hard at the thought that he doubled over with a groan and his cock gave a single, mighty twitch against Asami’s thigh.

Asami didn’t laugh, for which Grimmjow was very grateful because, while he knew it wouldn’t have been a mean-spirited laugh, he was feeling especially vulnerable right now. Not only was Ichigo a tenuous ally, and therefore pretty off-limits, he was also a man. Grimmjow had never been attracted to a man before and he wasn’t entirely sure it was for him. He had no idea what to do with a man, despite being one himself. Yet, for Ichigo, it didn’t seem so daunting to learn. Maybe the attraction wasn’t about Ichigo’s maleness at all, rather just about Ichigo’s _Ichigo-ness_.

That...actually made more sense, seeing as how Asami was Ichigo, refined. Grimmjow now saw his previous obsession with defeating Ichigo as his unconscious attempts to reject what Ichigo stood for: protection, attachment, and even love. All things that intrigued Grimmjow—things he had _desired_ , even—but that would have derailed his bid for King of Hueco Mundo, which he couldn’t have allowed back then, but which now no longer mattered.

It used to be that Grimmjow just lashed out, maybe even killed, whatever was in his wake when he was feeling vulnerable and frustrated and confused. Now, since it was usually Asami who not only was around, but was usually the _cause_ of his vulnerability, he had to deal with it like a fucking mature-ass man. Grimmjow was both irritated with her for it, and loved her all the more because of it.

“If it helps,” Asami began as she gently traced her fingers over Grimmjow’s face, “when you’re not looking, he looks at you the same way you look at him.”

“Yeah?” Grimmjow tried to be nonchalant. “And how’s that?”

“Confused.” Asami smiled. “Nervous. Curious.”

“Asami, why are you bringing this up?” Grimmjow asked, unable to hide his vulnerability, frustration, and confusion from her. This was worse than having Ichigo’s fist accidentally pass through his hollow-hole. “I choose you. End of story.”

“You would still be choosing me, Grimmjow. You could just choose Ichigo, too.”

“Why?” He looked at her with confusion and genuine hurt.

“Hey.” She reached out and pulled him down to her chest. He nestled into her breasts instinctively, getting lost in how they felt and not even looking up at her for several seconds. Asami stroked her fingers through his damp hair and across his sweat-cooled skin. “I choose _you_ , Grimmjow. Forever. And I _know_ that you choose me, every single day. So...it just doesn’t seem so threatening to open things up a little.”

“I thought humans...” He quickly averted his gaze, unable to bear looking at her face if her answer was what he feared it was. “Fuck, Asami, are we not...good enough?”

Asami’s eyes widened comically and she swiftly tilted his face up to look at her. “I am _so_ sorry, Grimmjow! I didn’t even consider that it might come across that way.” She swept her thumbs over both of his worried brows and then into his hair. “Everything I’ve said so far...I was talking about _only_ you and Ichigo. I know you don’t share and I honestly don’t have a problem with that. Me, on the other hand...I might be willing to share.”

Grimmjow pressed his forehead to her chest, his hands absently stroking her sides as he wondered what the fuck he had done to deserve Asami. He wondered if she would be saying all this if Grimmjow were attracted to another woman in their social circle and almost laughed out loud at the thought.

So, why was she so okay with Ichigo? Grimmjow knew the two were friends, and of course, they worked together every day. And he knew there had been flirtations between them when they first met—namely, because he’d been witness to them and had swiftly intervened. But, if she wasn’t going to be a part of this, what did she get out of it?

“You wouldn’t be there at all?” He quirked his brow.

Asami’s face flared bright red and Grimmjow’s night-vision caught every last glorious shade.

“You little perv,” he teased mercilessly as he straddled her and pinned her hands down by her head, “were you gonna sneak a peek?”

“Like you wouldn’t want to see if we were talking about me and another _woman_!” She said defensively. “And don’t even think about it!” She brandished an imprisoned finger at him in response to his grin, and he took a playful snap at it. “Women do nothing for me.”

“I don’t know how that’s possible.” Grimmjow shook his head in disbelief then gave her breast a fond lick that made Asami’s breath hitch.

“Listen, Grimm—if you really want me to drop it, I will. I just...” she sighed and rubbed her hand over her face. “Ichigo is struggling, Grimm. Worse than anyone knows, even me, and I’m convinced that you can help him.”

“Why?” Grimmjow asked. “Why me, why...with sex?”

“Because that’s how you’ve helped me. When I need to let go...forget...regenerate.” She lovingly kissed his mouth. “You’re practically built for providing that, actually. And I think you could provide all of that for Ichigo, too.”

Grimmjow softly ran his fingers through her hair and looked at her happily. “I provide you all that?”

“All that and more.” She grinned. “My King.”

Grimmjow used to think that he knew what it meant to be a king: power, authority, respect. Fear. He had wanted nothing more than to be King of Hueco Mundo, but then Aizen was gone and Grimmjow had realized that his desire to be a king wasn’t so much about being in charge _himself_ as not allowing Aizen or any other fucking Shinigami to be in charge. So he left the ruling up to Starrk and Hollybell without much fuss.

Since meeting Asami, Grimmjow had realized that he had never understood what it meant to be King. It wasn’t about having the power and authority to make Asami do what he wanted her to do. It wasn’t about making Asami give up her own authority and submit to his. And it definitely wasn’t about fear.

It was about having the power to provide for her. It was about respecting what she wanted and not just what he wanted to give her. It was about protecting her, even from himself, and especially from _her_ self. Being King meant supporting Asami.

And Asami was all about protecting and caring for others.

Grimmjow flipped their positions so that Asami was on top of him, intimate bits to intimate bits. Grimmjow thrust up against her and purred, “Take your throne, my Queen. Then tell me _exactly_ how you want me to help Ichigo.”


End file.
